


Loki/Reader: The Hunger Games

by i_have_an_au_fetish (luciferslegions)



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Norse Religion & Lore, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Starvation, Superiority Complex, Tragic Romance, Unhappy Ending, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2013-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferslegions/pseuds/i_have_an_au_fetish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which you and Loki are District 10’s Tributes for the Hunger Games</p>
<p>ON HIATUS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Reaping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated this book. I’m probably the only person in my age group who can proudly say that. Unlike my mom, who lost her shit because there were kids killing each other and starving, it was because the subject changed so much. She would be talking about what was actually happening in the Games then all of a sudden she’d segue to how poor she was or talk about hunting squirrels. That’s nice. You told us all about it in the first 5 chapters.
> 
> Since Capitol people are supposedly on drugs all the time and talk funny and get face lifts and drink themselves into comas, I’ve decided to use italics whenever a Capitol person is speaking. Okay? Okay. Like how the book Panem is based on the former USA, this Panem is based on the 9 realms of Yggdrasil (along with extra because I need 12). District 10 is what used to be Jotunheim, obvs.

It’s that time of year again. The annual reapings. This day fills you with dread because it reminds you that your brother would still be alive if the odds had been in his favor. It always brings you satisfaction when you see the District 10 representatives from the Capitol shivering in their artificial fur coats. They may think it’s authentic, but you’ve killed enough beasts to know the difference.

As everyone makes their way to the main courtyard, you sneak glances up at your father, whose brow is furrowed and jaw stiff. You’re tempted to reach out and grab his hand, but you think better of it. You don’t realize that you’ve arrived at your destination until you feel his large hands on your shoulders turn you around and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. When your mother was alive, she used to do that to you and your brother after she tucked you into bed, and now your father does it whenever you part ways at the reapings.

After having your finger pricked and blood analyzed, you join the other fifteen-year-old girls and immediately seek out your friend Skadi. It doesn’t take long because she had been looking for you, too. Even though it’s a day that is solemn and should be taken seriously, the two of you always try to make jokes about the Capitol reps or anything that comes to mind. Anything to lighten the mood, if only a little bit. 

“Angrboda looks more constipated than usual,” you whisper, looking over at one of the seventeen-year-old girls who is wearing a sour expression on her face.

“Really? I thought she always looked like that.”

“Skadi, have you been staring at the sun again? Because your eyesight is _atrocious_.” 

“I’ll have you know my eyesight is just fine,” the girl huffs, crossing her blue arms over her chest.

_“Good mooooorniiiiing~!”_ A shrill voice says from somewhere near the front. _“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Boys. And. Girls. It brings me great pleasure to see your **smiling** faces. And once again, I am excited to be able to gather all of you…people…together for such a **splendid** occasion!”_

Nobody could care less about what she has to say. It is the same thing every year. The person who is representing District 10 would yammer on and on about how _“fabulously wonderful”_ the Capitol is, how we should be grateful to be a part of Panem, and that it is a privilege to live under the Capitol’s supervision. Yeah, more like tyranny. 

You don’t know why they insist on doing it, probably because they’re just _that_ full of themselves, but once again, everyone is forced to watch the same short film that explains how the Hunger Games came to be and how much the Capitol loves us. Because there is next to no electricity in District 10 (that's District 3's specialty), the clip is projected onto a flat cliff face using some advanced Capitol technology that doesn't require a cord. No one cares enough to pay attention, because by now even the young children who still haven’t learned how to talk know the words by heart. 

_“Aah…brings tears to my eyes **every** time.”_ The woman giggles and it echoes off the broken walls. When the sound finally bounces back, it’s easy to pick up a faint tremor in her voice due to how cold she is. _“Well, let’s not dilly dally! Ladies first!”_

You roll your eyes, wishing for this to be over so you can just go home. You didn’t sleep well the night before, and your head keeps bobbing forward as you doze off every so often. If only she would hurry up. What was her name again? Blessing?

‘Ugh. What cruel parent would name their child _Blessing_? I would seriously kill myself,’ you muse, grimacing at the thought. ‘Tch, Capitol freaks…’

You feel a hand grip your arm, so you turn and look over at Skadi, who has a wide-eyed expression on her face.

“They called you,” she says warily.

You return her shocked gaze and your breathing becomes shallow. Despite the fact that Blessing continues to talk to herself, you find that you don’t have the ability to move your limbs. When you notice light shapes in your line of vision, you snap out of it and allow the white-clad Peacekeepers to lead you up front. Once you’re there, you stare down at your bare feet, refusing to look out at the crowd. You don’t want to see the expression on your father’s face, now that he’s about to lose a second child to the Capitol.

_“And now for the boys…”_ Blessing reaches into the glass orb and plucks a slip of paper, and you now realize that whoever she calls may be the one that kills you. _“Oh my. Loki Laufeyson!”_

No. Now you know _for sure_ he will be the one that kills you.

You feel a couple stray tears land on the top of your feet, so you try to blink them away before anyone notices. You don’t want to be seen as a coward before you’ve even left home.

_“Well isn’t **this** a treat? We’ve never had a Games where **two** Tributes were **royalty~**. Not to mention first-borns! The Crown Prince of District 2 will also be competing. Oh, I can already tell that this year will be something to remember!”_

While you try to wrack your brain as to who the Crown Prince of District 2 is, you notice that, even from the corner of your eye, Prince Loki is a few inches taller than you. And although he does not have the same physical build as most males from District 10, he still seems to have enough muscle to be considered a threat to anyone else. There is also the fact that he is well learned in sorcery. You have never actually seen him in person before, and it’s heartbreaking to know that he may be the last person you see before you die. 

_“Well, come on now, don’t be shy. Shake hands.”_

You release a sigh and turn slowly towards your impending doom. As you hold out your hand for him to shake, he takes the offered hand and presses it to his lips. Your eyes widen and you have to clench your teeth in order to keep your jaw from dropping. He lifts his eyes up expectantly and you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. You do the first thing that pops into your head and bow forward slightly in respect.

“Your Highness,” you mutter with a slight tremor in your voice.

_“Oh my, **such** the gentleman~!” _ Blessing squeals as Prince Loki turns towards the crowd, still holding onto your hand. _“Let’s give a **big** round of applause for this year’s District 10 Tributes!”_

The only one who claps is Blessing. What a surprise. Her pace gradually slows down and she clears her throat awkwardly. She then nods, some kind of signal, before a group of Peacekeepers approach. You and Loki are practically shoved towards an opening between two large cliffs, then feel slight whiplash when your hands are yanked apart and you’re led in opposite directions. Two Peacekeepers flank you as you are directed down a hallway (or what you assume _used_ to be a hallway before the war), that has been somewhat refurbished, then left by yourself in a room. 

You aren’t afraid to admit that you’re scared. You have no idea what goes on during the time between being chosen and the start of the Games, so you don’t know what to expect. It must have been much worse for your brother, who was only twelve when he was picked. His first year that he was eligible and he was unlucky enough to have his name drawn. He didn’t even last five minutes in the Games.

You jump slightly when the door opens but almost immediately relax because it’s only your father. He strides over and draws you into an embrace, which you return. Now that there are no cameras around to watch your every move, you have no reason to hold back your tears. 

“Oh gods, Father. He’s going to kill me.” You feel him shake his head.

“No. He would never cut down one of his own.”

“But…Farbauti. _He_ won! So—”

Your father loosens his grip on you and steps away, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“The Careers killed the other Tribute, not Farbauti. The people of District 10 share a stronger bond than those of the other Districts. We would never slay one another.”

“Even if the only two Tributes left are from District 10?” You mumble.

“One of them has always died before the other, so a situation such as that has never actually happened.”

“Oh…”

“Fear not. He will look after you.”

“What makes you say that?” 

“Because he is the next in line to the throne. And when he becomes King it will be his duty to protect his people.”

“Oh, so he _will_ come back. Of course, I mean he has to.”

“No no, sweetheart. That’s not what I mean at all.”

“Then what—?”

You are cut off by the door opening again and the same two Peacekeepers walking in, stopping a couple paces away from your father. At first they simply stand there before they make a move towards him.

“I love you,” he says as he kisses the top of your head.

“I love you, too,” you reply as you watch them lead your father away.

You then realize that may well have been the last conversation you would ever have with your father, and you spent a majority of the time arguing with him. You don’t have the time to feel sorry for yourself because the Peacekeepers are back, along with Skadi. She runs over and practically jumps on you, and sobs are wracking her body.

“This sucks,” she huffs against your shoulder.

“That's the understatement of the year.”

“I know this is a terrible thing to say, but…why did it have to be you?”

“I’m sure you’re not the first person to think that. Probably all of the families say that every year, but it still changes nothing.”

You two pull apart and Skadi is furiously wiping at her eyes. She sniffs loudly through her stuffy nose and pouts.

“Ugh, shit. Who am I supposed to fuck around with now?”

“Surely you have more friends than just me.”

“Yeah but they’re so _boring_ compared to you,” she says, rolling her eyes. You offer her a sad smile then reach out and grab her hand. She squeezes back and tries to return your smile. “I’ll miss you.”

“I would hope so!” She manages a small chuckle and wipes at her eyes again. “I’ll miss you, too. I’ll be thinking about you while I’m gone.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, will you look after my father? Just make sure he’s doing okay?”

Even though she won’t say it out loud, you can tell what Skadi is thinking just by looking at her expression. You know that you will not be coming back, and she is able to see right through you. It has always been a challenge to keep secrets from each other.

“Sure. I can do that.”

When you hear the door open yet again, you quickly pull Skadi in for one last hug before she is forced to leave the room. You can’t decide whether you’re more sad that you may never see your friend again, or more angry because the Capitol gets off on making everyone else’s lives miserable while they watch those less fortunate than them suffer for entertainment. You breathe calmly as you are escorted out of the room and taken to some kind of a metallic carriage. But it can’t be a carriage because there are no wolves and it’s hovering in mid-air. It must be one of those “flying cars” that you and Skadi read about. You both laughed at the thought of anything other than a bird flying.

You notice Prince Loki is a few feet away from you, also flanked by two Peacekeepers, and when the door to the vehicle opens he holds his arm out to help you inside. You are hesitant at first, but then you remember your father’s words and decide that maybe he really can be trusted. After you’ve entered the back of the car and adjusted into a somewhat comfortable position, Prince Loki slides in next to you and watches as the door is slammed shut after him. He turns and offers you a small smile before reaching over his shoulder and pulling some kind of strap across his torso.

“Buckle up.”

You reach behind you and find the same strap, then pull on it and try to copy his movements. You wonder what this is for, and how he knew about it. But considering he’s a prince, he has probably been inside one of these before. Perhaps he has even been to the Capitol. Maybe you could gain something out of an alliance with him if he has prior knowledge of where you’re going. 

Following your father’s advice may not be such a bad idea after all.


	2. The Train

The time you spend in the flying car is probably one of the most annoying experiences of your life. While you’re trying to look through the window at the scenery, Blessing is sitting across from you blabbering on and on and she just won’t shut her face. And then there’s Prince Loki who’s sitting practically stiff as a board. Well, he moves once in awhile, but his posture is so straight that it makes your body hurt just looking at him. You think to yourself that it must suck sometimes to be royalty.

But you do have to give him some credit. You honestly can’t tell if he’s genuinely interested in what she has to say, but every so often he will nod his head while Blessing is speaking. It is then you remember that you still haven’t met your mentor yet. Every year the new Tributes are trained and advised by a previous Games winner from their District. You doubt it will be Farbauti because the Capitol would see it as favoritism, and you’re not really familiar with any of the others. He’s the most well-known winner from District 10, so the others are pretty much overlooked.

When the car ride finally ends, you have arrived at a train station. Blessing gets out and tells you and Loki to stay put. You only know where you are because you’ve heard Angrboda brag to the other girls that she’s been on a train many times. You never actually believe her, but you have to admit that a few of her descriptions are _somewhat_ accurate. She has probably seen pictures somewhere. A quiet sigh draws your attention to the person sitting next to you. You notice that Prince Loki’s posture has relaxed slightly and he looks tired. Even though it isn’t really any of your business, curiosity has always been a weakness of yours.

“Prince Loki—”

“Loki.”

“I’m sorry?”

“From the moment our names were drawn, we were no longer seen as a prince and an ordinary citizen from District 10. We are now Tributes, and there is no difference in our social statuses. So, please, address me as Loki.”

“Okay…” You aren’t sure if this is proper, because despite what he says, Loki still possesses royal blood. “I was, um, only curious if you actually found Blessing’s yammering interesting.”

“I wouldn’t know. I was tuning her out for the most part.”

“Really? But you seemed so…enraptured!” The chuckle you receive as a response makes you wonder if you’ve just made a complete fool of yourself. “What’s so funny?”

“If there is anything you learn how to do well as a person of royalty, it’s how to be a good actor.”

The clacking of metal-soled boots draws your attention away from Loki as both of your doors open nearly simultaneously. A Peacekeeper is standing outside with their hand on the door, and you know that it would be wise to get out of the car as quickly as possible if you don’t want to be man-handled. Or woman-handled, if that’s even a word. The Peacekeepers lead you to a platform where a train with several cars is stalled. You wonder if there will be more people aboard, then remember Angrboda mention something about dining cars and cars where people sleep. Maybe it _is_ the right size for everyone. 

You notice that Blessing is talking animatedly to a man with the same features as someone from your District. He must be your mentor. As you get closer, you see that he is around the same age as your father, and you feel a chill when you think about how your father is back home and no doubt thinking and worrying about you as well. When the two notice your arrival, they stop their one-sided conversation and Blessing practically glows when she smiles at you and Loki.

_“Glad you could join us! I’d like to introduce you to your mentor, Ran Vernen! He won the 46th Hunger Games.”_

“It’s a pleasure,” Loki says, shaking the man’s hand.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Your Highness.” You merely smile at him when he shakes your hand. “Well, shall we board?”

The interior of the train has a color scheme of gold walls and dark crimson flooring and curtains. The appropriate word for the soft material under your feet, if you remember correctly, is “carpet.” Rows of cushioned benches line both walls and each row has its own window. You have heard of something regarding “class seating” and that some people get to ride in nicer areas because they’re richer. You honestly can’t tell if this is the rich section or the poor section because everything here looks so luxurious. There is a sliding door at the end of the car, and through a window you can see the next car over. This train seems to go on forever.

_“We’re stuck with **this** prehistoric piece of junk?! Of all the nerve…”_

“They should be getting lunch ready soon. Why don’t we all head over to the dining car?” Ran says, gesturing towards one of the sliding doors.

You and Loki nod while Blessing practically squeals with glee. How anyone can have that much energy all the time, not to mention the ability to undergo such a rapid mood change, is a mystery. You walk through a couple more passenger cars and notice that some of the benches are turned around and there is more space for people to put their feet in front of them. The windows are larger, too. This must be where the wealthier people sit. 

When the four of you reach the dining car, you see rows of circular tables all covered with white sheets, each with four chairs around them. Every table is next to a window, and they all have glass plates and silver eating utensils already set out. You wonder if any of the other tables are even being used. 

You hear the glass and metal objects on the table clinking together, and there is a sharp jolt as the train begins to move, causing you to nearly fall over. You are too busy gazing out the window at the landscape that is slowly revealed after the train has left the station, that you don’t realize the others have already begun getting settled. When you hear someone clear their throat, you turn and look to find that Loki has pulled out a chair for you, and you smile at him appreciatively before sitting down.

“Thank you.”

You watch in awe as numerous food items are literally brought out on silver platters. You seem to be the only one at the table who has no idea what any of these delicacies are, but you don’t want to sound like a total moron by asking. So instead, you watch Loki and choose the same things he does. He appears to notice this because a thin smile graces his features and he turns to you.

“Either we share the same tastes in food or you are completely lost.” You avert your gaze and a blush stains your cheeks when you feel his hand on your shoulder. “There is no reason for you to feel embarrassed. Feel free to ask me anything you want to know.” All you can do is nod.

You both look over when you hear Blessing giggle.

_“Oh I love it! The chemistry between you two is **superb!** ”_

“Huh?” You blurt out.

“She’s right. This could really help to win sponsors,” Ran muses.

“Sponsors?”

_“You don’t know about the sponsors? Don’t you watch the Games?”_ Blessing remarks, sounding almost offended.

“No. After my brother died in his Games, my father has refused to watch them, so I stay at home with him.”

_“Hmph! Well that’s no excuse. Many parents lose their kids, but they still tough it out.”_

“Well not all of them had twelve-year-olds who died within seconds of stepping off their platform. And of course _you_ wouldn’t sympathize, because _you_ don’t have to send off _your_ children to kill or be killed! You probably don’t even have any kids!”

“Where are you going? You haven’t even touched your food,” Ran says as you stand up from your chair.

“Not hungry. Taking a walk.”

When you reach the end of the train, you step outside and hold onto the railing because of how shaky the car is. You twist your hair so it’s not hitting you in the face, then inhale the scent of pine trees. Even though plant life is pretty scarce in District 10, there is a plentiful amount of evergreens.

“You should be more careful.”

You are startled by the unexpected visitor, only to see that it’s Loki, who has come to stand by you on the opposite side of the car.

“I have a firm enough grip,” you retort.

“I mean by what you say. The Capitol has the entire train wire tapped and there are cameras in every room.”

“Even the lavatories?”

“They are very thorough,” Loki replies with an exasperated sigh.

“Ew.” Your lip curls. “I don’t care what the Capitol hears. What can they do anyway? It’s not like they can kill us.”

“No, but they can spread rumors that will make sponsors turn a blind eye.”

“What’s so great about the sponsors anyway?”

“Sponsors use their own money to purchase gifts for a Tribute that they favor.”

“Gifts?”

“Medicine, food and water, clothing, blankets, weapons. Anything their Tribute desperately needs in order to survive in the Games.”

“Oh. I guess this means I shouldn’t say stupid stuff then.”

“Hmm. Come, let’s go inside and see if they will show us our bedrooms.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, there won’t be any sex in this story. It would just be kinda weird, since they’re trying to NOT DIE and I don’t think it would be appropriate. There will be kissing though.


	3. Rest and Not-So-Relaxed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stupid chapter title is stupid. But I have been known to do that. And I just picked some Norse name that I liked for the brother from a baby names website.

The bedrooms on the train are nearly half the size of your entire house. Even though the room is nice and very exquisite, it seems…a bit much. This may be because it is nowhere near what you’re used to. You are at a loss as to what some of the things in the room are for and how to use them. The lavatory puzzles you the most. Sure, there are places similar to this in District 10, but the cubicle in the corner with the glass walls and door is the strangest.

You slowly approach it and reach inside, and when you pull on the handle that is attached to the tiled wall, water begins to flow from the pipe. You quickly turn it again and step back before slamming the door closed. You have a feeling that this is used by the Capitol people for bathing. People in District 10 don’t have to worry about this because they can just freeze off the dirt from their bodies.

“Well, what do you think?”

You turn towards the source of the voice and see Loki standing in the doorway. You clear your throat and rub your arm.

“It’s…different.”

“Yes, I miss the simplicities of home as well,” he says as he runs a hand along the doorframe.

This seems like a strange concept to you, seeing how he’s a prince and just referred to his home life as “simple.” Either he didn’t want you to feel inferior, or the Royal Family’s living conditions aren’t very different from everyone else’s. You follow him into the main room and watch him walk around, observing everything. You feel it best not to ask why he is behaving like this, so instead you sit on the edge of your bed and leave him to…whatever it is he’s doing.

“So they _are_ the same,” he muses.

“Pardon?”

“The rooms. They are exactly the same.”

“Oh. Are they supposed to be different?”

“I wasn’t sure, to be honest. I figured the Capitol would at least add a little variety.”

You watch Loki as he approaches the window and watches the scenery pass by him like a blur. You heave a sigh and twiddle your thumbs in your lap, a nervous habit but mostly to give you something to focus on.

“Have you been to the Capitol before?”

“Once, when I was a child. My brothers hadn’t even been born yet.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “It was some diplomatic trip my father was taking, he and the other District monarchs had to meet with President Snow. I was brought along to observe so I could learn about what I will have to do when I succeed the throne.”

“What’s it like? If you don’t mind me asking.” You try not to think about the last part of his statement.

“I already said you could ask me anything,” he replies, finally turning away from the window and sitting beside you on the bed. You merely nod. “From what I can remember, the Capitol is bright and colorful. So are the people.” He smiled wistfully. “District 10 used to be bright and beautiful. Before the war, when it was still known as Jotunheim.”

“So you have brothers?”

“Yes. Two younger brothers.” You fumble with your hands and try to ignore his eyes that are focused on you. “You had one too. At one time.”

“His name was Iona, and he died in the Games when he was twelve years old. I was three when that happened.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you reply with a shrug.

“But this means that we have motivation to win. Me for my family, my people, and you for your brother. To avenge his death at the cruelty of the Capitol.”

“I guess…”

“It is what makes us _better_ than the Careers. They are in the Games to spill blood. We have an justified reason to win.” You remain silent. “Yes?”

“If you say so,” you respond flatly and finally look up, only to see that Loki is about an inch away from your face. You know he was just trying to get your attention, but you can’t fight the urge to lean backwards.

“You disagree?” For someone who is renowned for his wit and cleverness, Prince Loki is not very smart.

“I’m just tired.”

“Well, I shall let you rest, then. I’ll come wake you before dinner if you are still not up yet.”

You merely nod at him, not able to do much else. After he has left the room, you press your hand into the mattress to feel its softness. You pinch the top sheet experimentally and rub the thickness between your fingers. It’s already warm enough on the train as it is, and you know that if you were to crawl under the covers, you would melt. If such a thing were possible, that is. Instead, you settle on simply curling up into a ball on top of the covers and falling asleep that way. It doesn’t take long before you are deep in slumber, oblivious to the goings on elsewhere.

When Loki wakes you a few hours later, you feel much more rested, as well as less irritated. You are somewhat surprised about the fact that you were able to sleep without any disturbances, whether it be from the train or thoughts of home. But what alarms you the most is that it is nearly pitch dark when you open your eyes. You couldn’t have been asleep for _that_ long.

“Loki, why is it so dark out?” You ask him when you enter the hallway. There are small lights lining the carpeted floor and ceiling to help guide people through the train.

“We are in a tunnel.”

“A tunnel? Trains can pass through one safely? Without it collapsing?”

“These tunnels are not man-made out of ice,” Loki replies with a chuckle. “They are professionally constructed with tools and machinery, and they are constructed of stone. Their single function is for transportation.”

“I don’t understand.”

“These tunnels are built into mountains, and their purpose is to prevent trains from being damaged during a landslide. The roof of the tunnel is covered with flattened stone, which makes it no different from the regular mountainside. So the falling debris will continue towards the ground as if nothing is out of the ordinary.”

“So we’re inside a mountain right now?” Loki nods. “I’ve never gone _into_ a mountain before. When I go hunting, Father won’t let me go too far from the main establishment of District 10.”

“Well, you aren’t missing much.”

“Oh,” you mumble, lowering your gaze to your feet.

“I know. I miss it, too.”

As opposed to the dining car from before, you head to a more casual sitting room. Thick ornate rugs, wooden tables with intricate carvings and borders, and leather couches are spread throughout the room. A low table in the center, surrounded by four chairs, is covered with dishes and silver cutlery. Ran is seated in one chair and Blessing is next to him. Loki wordlessly leaves your side to sit next to Ran, meaning you’re forced to sit with Blessing. You give him a reproachful look, but he looks back at you as if he has no idea what he’s done wrong.

“So, did you have a nice walk?” Ran asks while he passes a cup and saucer to you.

“Yes, I did. Thank you for asking.” You smile at him appreciatively for the drink. “So you’re our mentor, and your job is basically to help us stay alive.”

“In a sense, yes.” He seems glad that you’re beginning to focus on the Games now.

“How did _you_ survive?” You ask before taking a sip.

“I waited.”

“You waited?”

“I waited for the number of Tributes to dwindle. I had been stacking up on supplies that I would pick off recently killed Tributes, quick enough before the hovercraft got to them. I knew the others were getting tired, and they were more focused on finding other Tributes instead of food. So it was pretty easy in the end. It may seem cowardly, but it worked,” the man says with a shrug.

“And what about Farbauti? How did _he_ win?”

An uncomfortable silence settles over the group, and you immediately wish you could take your question back. The almost panicked expression on Loki’s face makes you want to facepalm yourself…then jump out of the train and fall into a canyon. You’re merely curious because all anyone really knows about Farbauti’s Games is that it was the shortest year and he killed all six Careers single-handedly.

“Do you know what Farbauti looks like?” Ran asks, suddenly breaking the silence.

Besides Loki, you have never actually seen any of the Royal Family in the flesh. There are rumors that Farbauti is the largest person to ever live in District 10, and from what you’ve heard others say, you estimate that he is nearly three times as big as your father. But rumors are rumors.

“Um…kind of? Maybe?” Basically, no.

“Let’s just say he is a Career in the body of a 10. If he saw a tribute, they would be dead before they even had the chance to escape.”

Now Loki looks really uncomfortable. He is so tense his body is about to snap in half.

“Okay. I get it. Let’s talk about something else.”

_“You know what **I** think?”_ Blessing chimes in.

‘The woman thinks?’

“I couldn’t even fathom a guess,” Ran says with good humor. Bless the man for his patience.

_“ **I** think we should talk about the Tribute Parade. It **is** one of the first things that happens after you arrive at the Capitol, not to mention the first opportunity to win the favor of potential sponsors.”_ She then turns her head towards you and stares at you impassively. _“I **assume** you know about the significance of sponsors by now.”_

“Yes.”

Blessing giggles and goes back to drinking her tea as if that exchange never happened. You heave a sigh and slump back in your chair, not really in the mood for being around people and your appetite is gone again. Ran’s voice brings you out of your stupor, making you sit up.

“The Tribute Parade is where the twenty-four Tributes process down the main street of the Capitol. Each District is assigned to a prep team, who does makeup and designs the costumes.”

“Costumes?”

“The costumes are meant to reflect each District, or what product it specializes in. Since District 10 is livestock…well, our Tributes are usually dressed up as goats or cows.”

“What’s a cow?”

_“Why, it’s an animal that produces milk! And we have it rid of all the filthy cow germs before it’s bottled and sold in our grocery stores,”_ Blessing explains using exaggerated hand gestures.

“Well, that applies to dairy cows. And goats,” Ran says. “The others are slaughtered and made into food.”

“But we don’t have tho—oh, is that the animal on our District’s insignia?”

“Yes,” Ran replies with an eye roll.

“I don’t think they would live very long in District 10 because it‘s too cold.” Ran covers his mouth to muffle his laughter and you frown. “What’s so funny?”

Before he can answer you, the entire room suddenly becomes brighter, and for a moment everyone covers their eyes. You’re still squinting, yet can’t help but look at Blessing, who is practically jumping for joy. Now you know why it’s no longer dark. You’re out of the tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally bsed Loki's explanation about tunnels. I guess after watching "Atlas Shrugged II" I wanted to write about trains. Stupid bitch had to press the button. Don't you know you NEVER press the button. Things go BOOM! when you press the button.


	4. The Capitol

The Capitol is nothing like you ever imagined. On the other side of a large lake is a shining metropolis. It looks as if you have traveled into the future, and as the train gets closer, you can hear the voices of the citizens. Upon pulling into the station, you now understand what Loki meant when he said the people are colorful. And they seem very excited to see you, judging by their huge grins and enthusiastic waving.

“Even though your heart may not be in it, it’s always smart to make a good first impression,” Loki says from next to you before approaching the window and waving at the people.

Your heart isn’t in it. Not one bit. But you know he’s right. You take a deep breath and push yourself up before joining Loki at the window. The noise of the crowd seems to double, and you force a smile, waving until the train finally pulls to a stop. Your wrist cramps up.

When the four of you leave the train, you and Loki are immediately sent to meet with your prep team. There are five people: the bleach-blonde twins Apollo and Artemis, who work on Loki; pale pink Athena and silver Aphrodite—no relation—who work on you; and blood-red Ares, the main clothes designer and makeup artist. The two of you won’t meet Ares until you are getting ready for the Tribute Parade.

While Athena and Aphrodite are spraying your body with water, brushing your dark hair, plucking your eyebrows, filing your nails and painting them black, you notice that they are both wearing strange gloves made of a material you've never seen before. You figure that it’s so they don’t get frost bite. The District 12 prep team probably has to wear fancy gloves too, so they don’t get burned.

After you’re both deemed presentable, you and Loki are taken to another room to meet with Ares. Compared to the rest of your prep team, he looks somewhat normal. It’s obvious his hair is dyed, and he has several piercings, one on his left eyebrow, one on his lower lip, a few lining his cartilages, and a one inch plug in both earlobes, but he doesn’t have any eyelash extensions or contacts, and he hasn’t had a face lift.

“I’m Ares. It’s nice to finally meet you two.” You notice he’s wearing the same gloves as the others when you shake hands. “This is my first year, and I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Loki says with a grin.

“So, tonight is the Tribute Parade,” Ares begins, rubbing his palms together. “I have watched previous years, and District 10 is known for having pretty tasteless costumes. But I’m going to change that.”

“How?”

“Let me show you what I’ve come up with.”

Your jaw drops when you see the outfit Ares has made for you. It’s a green, long-sleeve top, green leggings, brown knee-high boots, and what appears to be some sort of belt/loin cloth combo. You are taken aback by the fact that the fur cloak is real fur. That’s right. _Real. Fur._ And the gold circlet with arched horns that extend outwards has to be your favorite part.

Loki has a similar wardrobe, but his boots are black, he has on more black leather and gold metal plating, instead of a fur cloak he has a green cape, and his gold helmet covers his entire head and the horns go straight back rather than sideways.

“The other Districts have both Tributes dressed the same, so I wanted a little variety. What do you think?”

“This is incredible! I love it!” You exclaim, extending the cloak and rubbing the fur between your fingers. Loki feels it too and “hmm”s.

“It really is authentic. I’m impressed.”

“Well, I’m glad I have met your expectations.”

“I must say, this is much more accurate with regards to the ‘livestock’ we have in our District.”

“That was the plan,” Ares says with a wink. “And to think that they’ve been dressing you up in ridiculous cow costumes all these years. Amateurs.”

A shrill squeal draws your attention towards the door where the rest of the prep team, Ran and Blessing—in all her neon green glory—have decided to make their appearances. All except your mentor swarm around you and gush over the costumes. There is so much talking going on at once that it is nearly impossible to discern what any of them are saying.

“Prince Loki—”

“‘Loki’ is just fine,” he says dismissively with a wave of his hand. 

“Alright then. _Loki._ You are a shape shifter, correct?”

“Yes?”

“Would you, perhaps, be able to change your form so those horns are gone? As impressive as they are, your helmet is off center, and it looks a bit odd with two sets of horns.”

With a twitch of his hand, Loki’s naturally blue skin bleeds away into a pale pink color. His markings disappear, his red eyes turn green, and the horns seem to be absorbed into his forehead. A chorus of “ooo” and “aah” fill the room. You stiffen when Ares turns his calculating eyes on you.

“Now, what to do with you—”

You can barely get a chance to react when fingers grip your chin and your head is suddenly turned, immediately followed by a pair of lips covering your own. All of the prep team and Blessing are gasping and whispering, but you ignore them. You yelp a moment later, and when he pulls away, you touch your bottom lip where blood is starting to ooze. 

“You bit me!”

“Sorry. I need some of your blood in order for this spell to work.”

“You could’ve just _asked!_ ”

“I hope you aren’t going to want _me_ to change as well,” Ran says jokingly.

“That’s not funny,” you hiss.

“It’s a little funny.”

You suddenly feel warmer, but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Not like on the train. You look down to see that your hands have turned the same color as Loki’s and you can only assume that the rest of your body has too. You wonder if your eyes are green like his.

“How long will this last?”

“Until I change us back.”

“Are you going to bite me again?”

“I might just ask this time.” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Well, come on now. We need to take our places. The Parade is about to start soon,” Ares says, ushering everybody out of the room.

When you enter the room where the other Tributes are gathered with their prep teams, you can’t help but stare in awe at the costumes they’re all wearing. While some of them aren’t exactly appealing, you have to admit that they are quite creative…in their own special ways.

_“Have fun out there, you two! Look alive!”_ Blessing chirps. 

“We will be cheering for you the loudest,” Ran says with a wink.

You watch the pair go until the door has closed behind them. You don’t even realize you had been holding your breath until you gasp for air. A wave of nervousness suddenly washes over you and shivers are racing up your spine.

“Let’s go find your chariot, shall we?” Ares says.

When you are shown to your chariot, the sleek black horses seem to take to Loki very well. You just think they’re big. Pretty, but big. And the chariot turns out to be much higher than it looks. By the time they’ve finally managed to get you on it, you’re a trembling mess. And the fact that you’re wearing three-inch heels is not helping the situation in the slightest.

“Surely you have been in a chariot before,” Loki says with slight humor.

“Yeah, I’ve been in a chariot before! But I was sitting down! And I wasn’t wearing shoes!”

“Eheheh. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

“Aww…” The prep team, minus Ares, coos.

“Oh my gods, stop it guys,” you mumble, hiding your heated face in your hands.

The chariot violently jerks as the horses begin to walk towards the waiting room and get in numerical order. You grip the side with both hands and hold on for dear life, not caring that the horses aren’t even moving very fast.

“Good luck, you two! Make this memorable!”

“Well, I know _I_ won’t forget.” You glare at Loki, who barks out a laugh.

From where the two of you are positioned, you can see the eighteen Tributes from the first nine Districts in their lavish costumes. On the opposite side of the closed doors, Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are doing their usual commentary, trying to energize the crowd. It’s impossible to tell what they’re saying, but suddenly the volume increases drastically and the doors swing open. District 1 crosses the threshold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Suzanne Collins uses Roman names for some of her characters, I decided to use Greek names for mine. Okay. And in case you can’t figure it out, the costumes are Avengers!Loki and Lady Loki, but we‘re going with A!Loki‘s shade of green.
> 
> The reason I didn’t use italics whenever Ares was speaking was because, like Cinna, he’s really the only “sane” person in the Capitol…despite the fact that he has like a billion holes in his face. Plugs are so gross, ugh. They just make my ears hurt.
> 
> District 12 is supposed to be Muspellheim (you know, Fire Giants...coal mining). And I just realized that I never mentioned what Blessing looks like. She's basically neon green. And now you know.


	5. The Parade

The Capitol Hymn plays in the background, and you can’t help but gag. You have always hated the song, and you hate how the Capitol feels the need to play it every five seconds. Your chariot starts moving again and you hold onto the side. As you are getting closer to the doors, you feel Loki’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you towards him.

“I’ll hold you up while you impress the masses with your waving skills.”

“Sounds good. And _you_ can woo them with your quirky one-liners.”

“We’ll see. Here goes nothing.”

You nearly go deaf upon being bombarded by all the noise. District 10 only consists of a few shades of blue and gray, so this sea of color leaves you awestruck.

_“I must say, Claudius, in all my years of commentating the Games, I have **never** seen two Tributes from District 10 who were this **stunning**!”_ Caesar remarks.

_“Yes, yes,”_ his neighbor agrees. _“They are quite different this time around.”_

_“Perhaps the **new** costume designer has something to do with it.”_

_“You may be right about that,”_ the smaller male says, leaning back in his chair.

_“And I must say, those helmets are a very nice touch,”_ Caesar comments with a single nod of his blue head.

_“I couldn’t agree more, my friend.”_

Your wrist is cramping up from waving and your face hurts from smiling, but you’re only halfway to the end. You look to your left and see that Loki is also waving at people. You want to scold him for not holding onto anything, but yelling at a prince is a bad idea. You shake your head, but when you turn to face forward, you stop short.

“Loki. Our horns are tangled,” you hiss out of the corner of your mouth. He chuckles and you narrow your eyes. “This isn’t funny.”

_“Uh oh, it would appear that the District 10 Tributes are in a bit of a jam. Or should I say ‘knot’?”_ Caesar says with a laugh.

You reach up to try and pull yourselves apart, but Loki stops you by grabbing it with the one that was holding onto the chariot. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he brings your hand to his lips and places a kiss of reassurance on the knuckles. For a short moment, the only sounds are people gasping, the clopping of hooves, and the squeaking of chariot wheels. You can’t even hear the Capitol Hymn anymore, only your rapid heartbeat pulsing in your eardrums. The roar of the crowd, which has somehow gotten louder, brings you back to reality.

“It is alright. We’ll worry about it afterwards.”

_“Wow! Wow! I’m speechless. I. Am. Speechless,”_ Caesar boasts. _“I suspect that there’s something going on between those two behind the scenes. Whadda ya say, folks?”_

When your chariot finally stops, you yank your hand free from Loki’s grasp and work on disentangling your helmets. After you’re separated, you stumble a little and grab onto the side of the chariot. Your neck is stiff, so you rub it and rotate your head a few times to loosen the muscles. Loki nudges you and points up where President Snow has approached the podium to address the masses. You straighten your posture, despite the fact that you despise the man and could care less about what he has to say.

“Welcome! Welcome,” the old man says with his arms held out as a gesture to quiet the crowd. “Tributes, we welcome you. And we salute your courage…and your sacrifice.”

‘Not like we have a choice.’

“And we wish you Happy Hunger Games…and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

The roars of the audience become even _louder_ , and all you can think about is how much you want to kill someone if you ever have to hear that stupid saying again. The chariot jerks again as the horses are directed inside. After the chariot has come to a full stop, you practically beg for somebody to get you down. Once you and Loki are both on solid ground, you’re almost immediately swarmed by your groupies.

_“Ohmygosh that was fabulous! There’s no way people are going to forget that!”_ Blessing screeches.

“Was that planned?” You ask, looking at Ares accusingly.

“Of course not. I knew you would do fine on your own. But I don’t mind taking a little credit,” the redhead replies with a wink.

“Intentional or not, the crowd loved you—” Ran halts in his statement when he looks at something over your shoulder. Some _one_ , to be more precise. 

On the other side of the room, a tall boy with large biceps is staring at your group with calculating blue eyes. His shoulder-length blonde hair is hidden by a silver winged helmet that frames his smirking face, and his female companion is holding hers in the crook of her arm, showing her long dark hair that is tied back in a ponytail.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

After saying goodbye to Ares and the others, you, Ran and Loki follow Blessing to the elevators that will take you to the District apartments. Each District has its own floor, and naturally District 10 gets the tenth floor. As usual, Blessing is talking to herself and Ran is the only one listening to her. Whether or not he gives a damn about what she has to say, you have no idea. You have other things on your mind anyway.

“Loki, who was that guy?”

“Thor Odinson, from District 2. And the female Tribute is Sif. Heed my advice, put as much distance between you and them in the arena as you can. They are the ones you need to worry about the most.”

You merely nod at him, unsure of how to respond. How _should_ you respond to that?

‘So that was the other prince. _He_ definitely volunteered.’

As usual, Blessing is bouncing up and down with excitement. Then again, she gets excited about everything. When the four of you leave the elevator, you walk down a hallway towards a door with a golden “10” on it. She takes out a card and swipes it before the door slides open. She gestures for everyone to follow her, so you do.

_“Here is a key card for everyone. It only works for our floor. Keep it safe and **don’t** lose it.”_ You resist the urge to roll your eyes when she looks at you. _“Now, how about a tour?”_

You, once again, tune Blessing out when she starts yammering on. You are perfectly capable of finding everything on your own, thank you very much. While you’re following the others, you notice some people scattered around the apartment. They’re all standing against the walls and they are still as statues. They have dark hair, white painted faces, dark red lips, and are wearing red. They are completely silent and show no emotion on their faces.

“Loki, who are those people?” You whisper.

“Avoxes. They’re District citizens who break Capitol laws then have their tongues cut out. After that, they are basically made into slaves,” he whispers back.

“That’s horrible.”

“That’s the Capitol for you.”

_“And this is **your** room,”_ Blessing says.

You shrug at Loki, a gesture signifying that the conversation is over. You walk towards the room that you were directed to and flinch when the lights turn on by themselves. You hear Blessing take Loki to his room then return your attention to your surroundings. As you step in further, the door slides shut, and you have a feeling that the door opens and closes when you come and go. The same applies to the lights. Capitol technology will never cease to amaze you.

It takes awhile to remove your costume, but you finally do and change into your pajamas—provided by the Capitol—before joining the others for dinner. Blessing throws a fit, but you don’t see anything wrong, considering you wear less back home. Ran tells her to calm down and eat some chocolate covered strawberries and she’s silent as the dead. If he wasn’t the same age as your father you would kiss the man.

Just like on the train, your room is too warm and the bed sheets are thick, made for Capitol people. Again, you sleep on top of the covers, and you wonder if Loki and Ran are doing the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Laughs like a crazy person* Hahahaha Thor as Cato trololol. And Sif as psychobitch Clove. I love writing Caesar’s character, he’s so much fun. And I just kinda thought the horn thing was funny, also because this LokiXLady Loki picture where their helmets are tangled. I can't post it from this computer, but hopefully I'll be able to later.  
> EDIT: Here's the picture!  
> http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ltkrzlCg3I1qlen9ao1_1280.jpg
> 
> I kinda ship Ran and Blessing now. Why.


	6. Training

The next morning, you and Loki go downstairs to the training room. For the next four days, you and the other Tributes will be training for the Games. There are staff members in there acting as coaches, sparring partners, and overseers for each station. You notice several Peacekeepers, who you assume are there in case a fight breaks out. As you all have been instructed, you’re not allowed to fight each other until the Games officially start.

You try the rope ladder first, and you make it halfway across before it begins to tip over. You quickly extend your arms and legs to try and even it out, then once it’s stopped rocking, you slowly start moving again. When you reach the top, you collapse on the platform and release a heavy sigh, rolling your eyes when you hear “AGAIN!” from down below.

You spot Loki at the traps station, and you wonder why he’s even bothering if he could just use his magic. Unless they aren’t letting him use it. You know one thing not allowed is cannibalism, but is magic?

You decide to try out the throwing knives, since that’s what you primarily use at home when you hunt. After testing how they feel in your hands, since all of yours are hand-made, you approach the dummies and throw them, the blades whistling through the air. When you’ve used them all, you examine your work before looking over your shoulder.

The Careers are laughing at you and you don’t know why. You look back at the dummies and furrow your brow in confusion. You hit the targets, so…but then you notice the targets in the chest that are glowing red. You hit the ones in the legs. You smack your forehead and make a frustrated noise.

“Hey District 10! Why so blue?” Sif drawls.

“Please tell me she did not just say that…”

“Is everything alright?” Loki asks as he walks over to you.

“I hit the wrong targets,” you reply, tilting your head at the dummies over your shoulder. “It’s just…when you’re hunting, you aim for the legs to slow them down. How are you supposed to hit a giant _four-legged creature_ in the _chest_?”

“Don’t worry, there’s still three more days. You’ll get it,” he says, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You purse your bruised lip. Oh yeah, he kissed you again. Yes, it hurt. And no, he did not ask first. A groan leaves your throat when the Careers make kissing noises from their area of the room.

“They die first.” You scowl when Loki pats you on the head like a little kid.

“Do you know how to set a trap?”

“Of course I do.”

“Light a fire?”

“Yeah?”

“Show me.”

“Which one?”

“Mmm…both.”

“Fine,” you reply, sagging your shoulders and allowing Loki to direct you to the traps station.

In no time, you’ve set a trap and “caught” something in it (just a large stick, but that counts for demonstration’s sake), lit a fire, put out the fire and cleared away all traces of the embers. You look at Loki with a smug expression and cross your arms over your chest as if daring him to complain.

“Good job.”

“Well yeah, I already knew _that_.”

“You and I are probably a couple of the only Tributes who even know how to do this.”

“You mean the Careers don’t? I thought they were trained for the Games.”

“They’re trained to _win_ , not survive. They learn the physical aspect, but when it comes to finding shelter and hunting, they’re lost.”

“Sucks for them,” you mumble dismissively.

“Lunch break! You get thirty minutes!” The main instructor from earlier shouts from somewhere in the room.

“Huh. Well that’s _generous_ of them. We probably won’t be getting many of those in the arena,” you say flatly.

“Come on, let’s go get our food and find a table.”

Once you and Loki are seated, you immediately start digging into your food. You could care less about table manners. You’re not trying to impress anybody. You’re hungry and there’s food, and you plan on eating the crap out of it. Not literally, of course. You glance up once at Loki and see that he’s looking at the betting boards on the wall, then his gaze will flicker to another table where a blonde girl is sitting by herself. The female Tribute from District 5.

“What are you so grumpy about?”

“See the name for District 5’s female Tribute?”

“Lorelei? Yeah, so?”

“There are two things wrong with this. One, Lorelei was killed in the Games five years ago. Two, Lorelei wasn’t from District 5. She was from District 2.”

“Then who’s that?”

“Amora, Lorelei’s sister. Also from District 2.”

“But why—?”

“Because she hates her District. She studies magic, which is frowned upon in District 2.”

“So…because she’s technically from District 2, she’s using a different name in order to compete for another District. But why use her dead sister’s?”

“Amora’s well known for her magic. Lorelei was an amateur, so she never made a name for herself. If Amora had entered with _her_ name, then she would have been reported by Odin. I don’t know whose name was originally drawn for District 5, but obviously Amora didn’t hesitate to stand in for them.”

“So…are you allowed to use magic in the Games?” 

“Not many Tributes in the past have been able to, and really it’s kill or be killed. I don’t see why it would be illegal, but I will have to check first.”

“That would be cool if you were allowed to. There’s no way you could lose.” His facial expression turns sad and you narrow your eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Loki, it’s okay. I already know I’m not going to win. Ah ah, no. I’m not finished.” You shush him when he tries to interrupt. “I’m going to die in there at some point, but I can at least try to stay alive as long as possible. And the good thing is my father won’t have to see any of it.”

“Actually…”

“What did you do?”

“Before we left, your father visited me. He told me about what happened to your brother and why he refuses to watch the Games. He asked that I keep you safe, and I told him I would if he promised to watch this year.”

“What?! You mean he has to watch me _die?!_ We’re not allowed to kill each other here, but just you wait. I’m going to do something particularly nasty to you when we get back to the apartment.”

You stand up and walk away from the table with your food, glaring at the Careers when they make cat calls at you. Back at the table, Loki is leaning forward on his elbows and pinching the bridge of his nose.

When you are told to return to the training room, you’re the first one inside. You immediately grab the knives and throw them at the dummies in a fit of rage. Since you aren’t aiming for the legs like you normally would, you figure they would go all over the place, even clattering on the floor. But somehow, a majority of them end up within the glowing red circles. One hits the right arm and another the head.

You approach the dummies and are pulling the knives out when suddenly a larger knife appears about two inches from your nose. No, a spear. You drop the knives and look over at the Careers to see Sif holding another spear in her hand. She thrusts her arm back and throws it, but before it can get very far, it’s sent in another direction and pinned to one of the dummies that had been decapitated by Thor earlier that morning. You turn and see Loki holding one of the throwing knives you had dropped, then look back at the spear, which is pinned by one similar.

The knife is dropped and you’re dragged by your arm to another area. Once you stop, you sigh in frustration as Loki grabs your shoulders and looks you over. It reminds you of when your father would do the same thing after you fell and scraped your knee.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m not injured.”

“Are you certain?”

“I think I would know. I’d be saying ‘Ow, something kind of hurts. I think I might be bleeding somewhere.’”

“Look, whether you like it or not, he needs to watch this.”

“What, watch me _die?_ Of course I don’t like it! And he’s gone twelve years without doing so. Why start now?”

“Because for the past twelve years none of the Tributes have been his children. And now that his daughter is competing, he needs to be the supportive father she needs.”

“Referring to me in third person sounds a little weird.”

“I was trying to talk prettily, but I suppose it didn’t work.”

“No, you sounded very pretty. I think I was about to faint there for a minute.”

“Regardless.” Loki reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m only trying to do the right thing. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mutter with a shrug.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Yeah, you’re forgiven. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still hiding something in your bed later.”

Loki doesn’t seem worried. After all, who’s the Trickster here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stupid ending is stupid. Ehehe. She thinks third person is weird. But the story is in second person. That's funny. You're supposed to laugh.


	7. Good Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been awhile since I last updated this story, but please please PLEASE...do NOT write comments saying "Update soon" or "Write more" because frankly it just pisses me off. The last few months have been very stressful for me health-wise, and I was in the hospital more times than I would have liked. Even if I was the healthiest person in the world, that doesn't necessarily mean I can just spend all of my time to writing fanfics. So just be patient and wait for me to give you something COMPLETE; not a half-assed draft. Or read something else.

By the end of the day, you are exhausted and too tired to be pissed at Loki. Whatever prank idea you may have ended up concocting would have probably been stupid, obvious, and would've made you look like a complete moron. 

After the four of you sit down for dinner in the apartment that evening, Ran asks how your first day of training went.

“It was okay,” you reply with a shrug.

“Alright, what happened?”

“What makes you think something happened?” You ask, trying not to sound defensive.

“Because I have been in your shoes before.”

“I'm not wearing shoes.”

Loki smiles behind his glass of water. Ran runs a hand down his face and shakes his head, but not because he's annoyed. And as usual, Blessing is too preoccupied with stuffing her face to pay any attention to what's going on around her.

“Alright, I'll try to word it differently. What stations did you visit?”

“The rope net...wall...thing. Traps and survival skills because _Loki_ doesn't believe I know how to set a trap or light a campfire.” 

“I never said that,” Loki says calmly before biting into a strawberry.

“Do you?” Ran asks.

“Of course I do!”

“Good. It'll come in handy later. So what else did you do?” You heave a sigh.

“Well, I tried the throwing knives, since that's what I use for hunting. And I made a complete fool of myself in front of the Careers.”

“What happened?”

“I aimed for the legs instead of the chest.”

_“Well why on Earth would you do that?”_ Blessing's shrill voice exclaims.

'Oh hey, welcome to the world outside of your stomach.'

“I just...I wasn't really thinking about it. In my mind, I was imagining I was hunting. So I aimed for the legs, to slow my prey down. That's logical, right?”

“Normally, yes,” Ran says thoughtfully. “But you need to remember. The things you're hunting here don't run on four legs.”

A lump forms in your throat and you look down at your plate. Just as you are about to push your dinner away, a hand reaches out and stops you. Ran is shaking his head.

“It doesn't matter if you're sitting out here by yourself for another hour. You need to eat. You still have three more days of training, and you can't go to bed on an empty stomach. Now _eat_.” You sigh again and push your food around on your plate, but slowly it ends up being consumed.

“She has improved,” Loki comments.

Your head snaps up in surprise, only to see that he is already looking at you. There is a knowing smile on his face. You look back down at your food and poke at it before stabbing at a piece of chicken.

“Well, you need to focus on that as your skill then. You'll need to be perfect, if possible, in order to impress the Judges and get a high score,” Ran says.

“High score?”

“On the fourth day, each Tribute will go in front of a group of Judges and be individually scored based on their specific skills and how well they perform. Based on a scale of one to twelve, the score is important, because it reflects on how sponsors view the Tributes.”

“So you're saying that my skill is throwing knives?”

“Are you good at anything else?”

“Probably not...”

“Then I suggest you step up your game and focus on what you know you can do. And don't only trust in what you _can_ do, but keep striving to do what you _can't_. You will only survive if you're the best.”

Even though you manage to finish your dinner, you have to force yourself to keep your food down. For the rest of the evening you feel like utter crap, and you find it nearly impossible to fall asleep. When you finally do drift off, your eyelids are sore from trying to keep them closed for so long.

The next time you wake is early the next morning. You don't know what time it is, but what you first perceive as sunlight is actually just the lights in your bedroom blinding you. You barely have enough time to figure out who has opened your door when Ares's face appears in your line of vision.

“Good morning.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask groggily.

“It will only take a moment, and then I'll get out of your hair,” he says with a smile.

“What will?”

“This will only hurt for a bit.”

“ _What_ will?!” Athena walks over and sits on your bed while Aphrodite kneels in front of you. A cold washcloth scrubs your left earlobe, and then you feel a sharp sting a second later. “OW!”

“Almost done,” Ares says.

While you are feeling your ear with your finger tips, you wince when it starts to throb. The mattress on your right side dips, and before you even get a chance to turn your head and look, your ear is wiped and the same sting is there again.

“OW! WHAT THE HELL?!”

“Alright, that should do it. Thank you, ladies.” 

As Athena and Aphrodite leave the room, you cup your hands over your ears in case Ares is hiding some sort of torture device in his pocket and tries to use it on you. You glare at him because he looks way too pleased with himself.

“What the hell was that about?!”

“Sorry I had to wake you so early and poke you, but it's for your costume.”

“What costume?!” You don't mean to yell, but you're still really pissed.

“For the interview, of course.”

' _Of course_ , he says.'

“Now, you be a good girl and _don't_ take those out. We can't have those holes closing up before the interview. See you later.”

'I hope not.'

After Ares leaves, Loki almost immediately walks in. You let out a sigh of frustration and fall back on your bed.

“What happened? I heard shouting.”

“Ares and his minions attacked me,” you growl, pointing at your ears.

“Oh. You got your ears pierced.”

“How can you say it so calmly?” Loki merely shrugs. “Damn it, that really hurt.”

“That little _poke_ hurt? How do you think those _plugs_ felt when Ares first got them?” You think about that for a second before shuddering. “Anyway, you should get dressed. Breakfast is ready and morning training starts in a couple of hours.”

As Loki turns to leave, you tangle your fingers in your hair and yank on it. The growl of frustration you emit can be heard from the living room of the apartment. You get out of bed and change into the clothes that had been issued to you the previous day, then leave your room and join the others for breakfast.

“What was all the ruckus this morning? You were so loud you probably woke up all the other Tributes,” Ran says lightheartedly.

“Very funny,” you sneer before biting a chunk of sausage off your fork. “Seriously, if people would just _ask_ first before mortally wounding me, I wouldn't make such a huge deal about it. And what _'interview'_ was Ares talking about, anyway?”

“On the night before the Games start, all of the Tributes are interviewed by Caesar Flickerman for three minutes. It is broadcast live on television throughout all of the Districts. The prep team designs another costume, and the Tributes have to impress the audience, especially sponsors, with not only their looks, but also their character. Their body language, the way they answer questions, their confidence, all comes into play.”

“Great...” You grumble and cradle your cheek in your palm. “Well, this costume had better look good if Ares deemed it necessary to _stab_ my earlobes at six in the morning.”

“Anything will look good on you,” Loki comments.

“Cut that out. I can't show up to training looking all flustered.” You throw a grape at him when he chuckles. “Whatever. I just hope that Sif doesn't throw a spear at me again.” You jerk your head up when Ran spews his orange juice.

_“Ew! That is **disgusting!** ”_ Blessing shrieks before daintily wiping her napkin all over her arms, despite the fact that none of the juice landed on her.

“She did _what?!_ ”

“She threw a spear at my head, but it hit the dummy. Well, actually, she threw _two_ , but Loki stopped the other one. Thanks for that.”

“And nothing was said to her?” You shake your head. “Hmm. Well, just keep your guard up around those Careers. The Capitol shows a lot of favoritism towards their Districts. Things like that could just earn a slap on the wrist and nothing more.”

_"But they're not allowed to eat dessert, and you are,"_ Blessing chimes in.

'How is it that she can eat so much but still retain the size of a toothpick?'

“Hey, we should leave soon,” Loki comments before getting up from his chair and heading back to his room. For what reason, you don't know. He's already wearing shoes.

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh and toss your napkin on the table.

Within five minutes, the two of you are ready to go and meet at the front door of the apartment. While Blessing is off doing who-knows-what, probably caking her face with makeup _yet again_ , Ran sends you off.

“I'll see you this evening. And good luck. Make some progress.”

At the end of the hallway is the elevator, and when the doors open there is nobody else inside. On the way down, you and Loki say nothing to each other, and you notice that the lift continues slowly down. Perhaps the other Tributes have already left, or they are still in their apartments. But you let out an exasperated sigh when the elevator makes a stop...at the second floor.

“Shut up, Loki,” you grumble when your partner chuckles, just as the doors slide open.

“Oh, what's this? Trouble in paradise, cow?” Sif sneers. She and Thor stand in front of you, taking good care to crowd your personal space, which isn't too hard for Thor considering how huge he is.

'What is it with this girl and her awful comebacks? Seriously.'

“At least I'm not the Capitol's _bitch_ ,” you hiss when the doors open. 

You push past her and head towards the training room, completely ignoring the Peacekeepers assigned to escort the Tributes. Trailing several yards behind you, Loki is running a hand down his face.


End file.
